


Wise Guys

by orphan_account



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Alec, F/M, Gun Violence, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, bamf everyone really, mafia, mob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:15:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In New York City, the Herondales rule.  Stephen Herondale's son, Jace, will eventually take over the family business, along with the other mafia members his age.  They'll rule the city, just as past generations have, controlling the underground deals and the high-class political movements, taking out anyone who gets in their way.  No one messes with the Herondales.  </p><p>Except, of course, the Banes.  </p><p>The Banes and the Herondales are ultimate rivals.  Two mafia organizations battling for the same territory, they will hate each other until the bitter end, no questions asked.  </p><p>Until Alec Lightwood, Jace Herondale's best friend and future right-hand-man, meets Magnus Bane in a club.  And then, everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Almost Magical

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if anyone will make the connection, but I posted another fic a long time ago, which was also called Wise Guys. I've since deleted it, but I really liked the universe and I decided to continue it. Ultimately, I see Magnus as being a bit firmer and more hardened in this universe than in the books, because he's the heir to the mafia throne. The characterization will become clearer as the fic goes on. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Alec, stop ogling yourself and get out here!” Isabelle called from the hallway. Alec huffed, glaring at his reflection in the mirror.

“I am not ogling,” he insisted. “I just hate these clothes,” he muttered under his breath. His sister had forced him into a loose blue button-up shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans that he had never seen before in his life. He smoothed his shirt on his torso, desperately wishing for another layer of clothing.

“Oh, stop, you look great,” Isabelle said impatiently. She stalked into his room and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him into the hallway where Jace stood waiting. “Put on your shoes and let’s go.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec tugged on his usual black boots and swept a hand through his unruly black hair. Jace grinned at his discomfort. “Feeling a little apprehensive, are we?” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t let the big, bad, sexy ladies get too close to you. I know how much proper female interaction scares you.”

“I’m not scared,” Alec said. He threw open the front doors of the Herondale mansion and stepped outside. “Well, you wanted to get going, didn’t you?” 

“Wait,” Isabelle said. She rolled up Alec’s sleeves to his elbows. “There, now we can go.” She fixed her braided hairdo one last time and straightened her tight purple dress. She flounced past Alec and slid into the town car waiting in the driveway.

“Come on, boys, the night’s not going to wait forever!”

Jace thumped Alec on the shoulder as he followed Isabelle out the door. Alec climbed into the car last, closing the door behind him and signalling for the driver to head out. 

_____

Pandemonium was already pounding with excitement when they got there. The club flashed with bright lights, bass vibrating through the concrete sidewalks. The town car cruised up to the entrance, and the three siblings climbed out into the chaotic thrawl of people waiting to get into the party. 

“This was a terrible idea,” Alec said, chewing on his bottom lip.

“I think you mean a terribly good idea, dear brother of mine,” Isabelle said. She smiled at the mass of people like a queen assessing her kingdom. “Ah, I do enjoy a good party. Especially when I’m running the show.” She walked easily past the bouncers and descended the staircase that led into the underground club rooms, quickly disappearing from sight.

Jace swung an arm around Alec’s shoulders. “Alright, bro, tonight I will not be satisfied until I get you some action. So smile, wink at a few ladies, and let that Lightwood magic shine, alright?” For the second time that night, Alec was dragged away against his will. They were immediately recognized by the bouncers and waved through the doors.

“I think I was skipped over in the ‘Lightwood magic’ distribution,” Alec said, looking around, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The dance floor was a mass of bodies, layered with flimsy clothing and sparkling makeup. The air reeked of sweat and smoke, and Alec could almost taste the alcohol coming off the breath of those moving around him. 

“Maybe some of my Herondale charm will rub off on you, then,” Jace said with a wink. Alec sucked in stale air, looking away when Jace ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Oh, look, right over there,” Jace pointed to a group of twenty-somethings, scantily clad in tight black dresses. “That, my friend, shall be your first conquest of the night.”

“Which one?” Alec asked.

“All of them,” Jace grinned. “I’ve already got my eye on a hot redhead, so they’re all yours.”

“Um, I think I’ll get us some drinks first,” Alec sputtered. 

“Suit yourself,” Jace shrugged. He removed his arm from Alec’s shoulder and blended into the crowd. Alec stood on the edges of the dance floor for a moment, then moved to the bar. He took a seat and swung his chair around, trying to see through the wall of people. He spotted Isabelle on the upper balcony, sipping a glass of something bright blue and sitting on the arm of a chair inhabited by a man with long dark hair and oddly pointy ears. Alec sighed; he would never understand her apparent desire to find new strangers to toy with every night.

On the other side of the club, Jace had already migrated towards a short, pretty girl with bright red hair. He seemed to be bantering with the girl’s friend, an underdressed boy with glasses and a snarky glint in his eyes. The redhead was watching the two and laughing, head thrown back, wide smile stretched across her face. Alec had a feeling Jace had already forgotten all about who he came to the club with. 

Alec turned back around in his chair and signalled for the bartender. He ordered a glass of scotch and raised an eyebrow when the bartender asked to see an ID. He pulled back the collar of his shirt and showed off a dark tattoo; a heron, inked just below his right collarbone. The bartender stuttered his apologies and hurried to get the drink, sliding it to him and shuffling away quickly. 

Alec rolled his eyes, swishing the amber drink around in its glass. He took a sip and felt the liquid burn in his throat as it went down. Not for the first time, Alec wondered why on earth he ever let Jace and Isabelle drag him to the club. He never enjoyed himself, and he was as awkward as a 12-year-old boy with a crush around all the girls his brother tried to introduce him to. He watched the people moving and dancing on the floor, and as hard as he tried he couldn’t find any attraction to the beautiful girls that surrounded him. It tortured him, knowing that what he really wanted would never be accepted by his family, by the world he lived in, where tradition came first and his secret could destroy him forever.

Determined to snap himself out of that miserable thought, Alec took his drink and pushed through the crowd to the VIP lounge in the back of the club. He was waved through the guarded door and into a much quieter atmosphere. The VIP area was dimly lit, furnished elegantly with matching sets of contemporary chairs and couches. Cool jazz music played softly, and the chatter of the room’s slim occupancy was low and undisruptive. Alec sighed. This was much more his style. 

Alec headed over to an empty seating area. He lowered himself onto a couch and looked around the long room. It was occupied mostly by men and women in elegant clothing, with expensive looking clothes, designer timepieces, and sparkling jewelry. He recognized some of the people as having worked with his father and with Jace’s father, Stephen Herondale. Alec hoped none of them would be compelled to come over and talk business with him. He didn’t know much about the running of the Herondale organization, anyway; Alec was more of the silent protector. He would more than likely end up as Jace’s enforcer, once Stephen handed control of the Herondale organization over to his son. Alec settled quietly into his seat, deciding to wait out the night until Jace and Isabelle had finally had enough and decided to go home.

“Well, hello there,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Surprised, Alec looked up to see a man in purple jacket grinning down at him. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of seeing you here before.”

Alec sputtered. “Um, I’m sorry, can I help you?” 

The man’s lips quirked into an amused smile. “I do hope you can, Blue Eyes. You see, I’m trying to avoid having to have a certain conversation with a certain ex of mine, and I was hoping you’d provide a suitable distraction.” Without waiting for Alec’s response, the man slid onto the couch next to him and picked up Alec’s drink, taking a quick sip.

Alec stared at him. The man had a startling appearance, with dark hair spiked with glitter, tanned skin, and bright green eyes. Something about his presence made Alec want to keep staring, unable to look away.

“Eh,” the man looked down at Alec’s scotch with mock disdain. “No, this won’t do. Come, darling, you really must try the drinks that Raphael makes up at the bar. They’re almost magical, I promise.” Without waiting for an answer, the man grabbed Alec’s hand and pulled him up off the couch. Alec let him drag him up to the bar, too surprised to stop him. Or maybe he just hadn’t been dragged around enough that night.

The man guided Alec up to the bar, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Hey, Raphael,” he called, as if he’d done it a few dozen times. A latino bartender moved up to them, pouring expensive wine into a crystal glass. He set the glass down in front of another customer, then turned to grin at Alec’s apparent new friend. 

“What can I get for you, gentlemen?” The bartender, Raphael, asked.

“Two Mortal Cups, if you please,” the man said. Turning to Alec, he added, “It’s the best drink in the place, trust me.”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Alec agreed, still flustered. 

“So, Blue-Eyes, what brings you to this fine establishment?” the man asked. 

Alec blushed under the unexpected attention. “My siblings like it. My brother and my sister, they’re big fans of clubs and stuff like this.”

“But not you?”

“No, not so much. I’m more of a stay at home and read type.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“Really?” Alec laughed, taking in the loud, confident, glitter-covered man in front of him. 

The man chuckled, glancing down at himself. “I agree that I might be a bit flamboyant for anything less than a party life.”

Raphael came back just then, setting their drinks down in front of them. Alec picked up the glass and examined the drink. It was a shimmery dark gold, almost like molten metal. 

“Try it,” the man coached, having already downed half his glass. Alec took a tentative sip. His eyes widened immediately at the smooth liquid that flooded his mouth.

“Good, right?”

“It’s amazing,” Alec said, quickly taking another drink. The man smiled at him, and Alec blushed. 

“You know, you’re quite stunning when you smile,” he said. “But I have a feeling you don’t do it nearly often enough.”

Alec’s blush deepened, and he ducked his face away. The alcohol in the drink was strong, and he could already feel it working through his system.

“Hey,” the man pulled Alec’s chin back around with two fingers. “You’re not much of a risk taker, are you.”

Alec snorted. “How can you tell?”

“I’ve never seen you here before. And you’re acting as if I’m the first man that’s ever shown some interest in you. Which, I must be honest, surprises me. You have no idea how good a bit of hair gel and some eyeliner would look on you.”

Alec shook his head. “And you have no idea how strongly I know that’s never going to happen.” His drink was nearly gone, and he found himself mourning the loss of the golden liquid. “Trust me, my sister has tried. I’m more of the background guy. Dark colors. Messy hair. Drives her crazy.”

“I can see how it might,” the man said. He leaned forward, and before Alec could react, the man’s hand was running through his hair. “Let me just…” Alec sat still as the stranger pushed his bangs around. “There. Now I can really see those beautiful eyes of yours.” The man’s hand lowered, and Alec looked straight into his eyes. They were captivating, and the focus there was unlike anything Alec had ever seen.

Then, abruptly, he pulled away. Guilt stirred in Alec’s stomach. What the hell was he doing? If someone saw him, recognized him -

“Darling? Is everything -” 

“Ah, Mr. Bane, I was hoping to see you here this evening,” a voice interrupted. Tearing his eyes away from the green-eyed man’s gaze, Alec looked over his shoulder, where a tall, thin woman with sleek red hair was watching them. She had a lazy smirk on her face, as if she knew every secret in the room and found them inferior to her own importance. 

“Seelie,” the man greeted her, following Alec’s glance. In a dramatic change, his voice was cool and distant, and he stared her down with narrowed eyes. “I must be completely honest; it is never my intention to run into you in any setting.” 

The woman, Seelie, huffed, but she seemed no less amused. “Oh, come now, Magnus, I just wanted to catch up a bit, no harm in it! Who’s your adorable little friend here? He does look familiar.”

They both turned to Alec, but he had frozen in his seat. Bane? He thought. Magnus Bane? It couldn’t be… How could he have missed this? Alec’s blood ran cold through his veins. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. He scrambled out of his chair. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he stammered. He left the two at the bar, avoiding looking into the man’s...Magnus’s eyes, and resolved to find Jace and Isabelle and get them out of the club as quickly as possible. 

Just as he reached the VIP door, a hand wrapped around Alec’s upper arm. “Hey, whoa, where do you think you’re going in such a rush?” Alec turned to see Magnus looking at him with concern. Magnus tugged him over to the wall. “What’s wrong? I understand that Seelie may be a little unpleasant, but there’s no need to hurry out over her.”

“No, that’s not...um. Look, I’m sorry, I had a great time talking to you, but I really need to go.” He tried to pull out of Magnus’s grip, but the man held on. “Magnus,” Alec ground out, “please.”

Magnus released him, but he didn’t step out of Alec’s way. The confusion seemed to clear from his eyes. “Wait, is...is that what this is about? You heard Seelie call my Bane. And now you’ve realized who I am, haven’t you.” It wasn’t much of a question.

Alec finally looked him in the eye. “I have heard quite a bit about you and your family, yes.”

“And it bothers you.”

“It’s not that, not in the way you’re thinking. But trust me, Magnus, whatever might have happened tonight, we shouldn’t be seen together. I can’t believe we weren’t caught already. But I need to go,” and he turned away again.

“Why do you keep saying that?” Magnus demanded. He reached out to turn Alec back to face him, and he caught the collar of Alec’s shirt. The shirt was pulled back to reveal the heron tattoo across Alec’s collar bone, and Magnus stepped back as if the shirt had burned him. Understanding dawned in his expression. He shook his head, wiping the emotion from his face.

“You’re a Herondale. Of course, you’re a Herondale. You look just like...why does this continue to happen to me?” Magnus murmured under his breath. 

Alec quickly straightened his collar. “Not a Herondale, no, but I’m with them. You see now, right? Why I have to go.” 

Magnus stared at him in frustration. Then his expression cleared, and the easy smile reappeared on his face “This is ridiculous. Give me your number.”

“Wait, what?”

“Or, you know what? Here,” Magnus took a napkin from a passing server and pulled a pen out of his pocket. He scribbled something onto the paper and handed it to Alec with a wink. Looking down, Alec saw that it was a phone number. “That’s my cell number,” Magnus said. “Call me, if you don’t mind taking a little chance.”

“A little...Magnus, if our families catch us together, we’re dead.”

“All the more excitement, don’t you think? Take a risk, darling. You can’t deny the chemistry.” With one last glittery wave, Magnus turned to go.

Alec watched him for a moment, then realized something. “Alexander,” he called out. Magnus turned back, an eyebrow raised. “Alec, I mean. Alec Lightwood.” He stretched out a hand.

Magnus’s lips quirked up, and he shook Alec’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Alec. I do hope I’ll see you again soon.”

“You will,” Alec said, surprised by the conviction in his own voice. Magnus’s smile widened, and he blended back into the crowd. Alec looked back at the napkin he held in his hand. Maybe Magnus was right; it was about time he took a few risks.


	2. Not Welcome Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions heat up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit short, I've had family in town all week. 
> 
> I'd also like to say that I'm going to be updating every Monday!
> 
> If you have anything or anyone you'd like to see happen in the story, I'd love to hear it!

Pandemonium was still in full swing as Alec slipped back onto the dance floor. It was late, and Alec had spent all too much time drunkenly flirting with his family’s arch nemesis. He wove through the pulsing mass of bodies, searching for Jace and Isabelle in the throng of people.

Alec fought his way past a sea of flailing limbs and couples furiously making out. He emerged on the other side of the dance floor with no luck, unsure how he would ever find his siblings in the mayhem. He dragged a chair out from a nearby table and stood on top of it, peering out over the heads of the dancers.

Unable to discern even a face or two from the chaos, Alec sighed in defeat. Then, in one last sweep, he glanced towards an exit door on the far side of the club. Two big, burly men were pushing at each other, rushing to shove through the door. When it opened, light poured in from the lamps outside. Alec caught a glimpse of a silvery object tucked into one of the man’s pants before they slipped through the door and disappeared.

A gun, Alec thought. And in this club, guns could only mean one thing. Something was going down outside, and Alec had no doubt it had something to do with the two mafia families that were lingering that night. 

Scrambling down from the chair, Alec shoved his way back through the crowd, knocking over more than one stiletto-clad party girl in his path. He grabbed the handle of the exit door and threw the door open, rushing outside. Hearing shouts from above, Alec climbed the steep steps up to the street level.

When Alec reached the top of the staircase, panting with the effort of it all, his stomach dropped. A small group had gathered under a street lamp, tense bodies at a stand still. Alec picked out Isabelle in the group, her hair having fallen out of her braid and her dress looking rumpled. A half a dozen others were scattered around, and Alec recognized a few, others only vaguely familiar, and Alec realized they were all part of the Bane operations.

And there was Jace, gun drawn, shoulders back in easy confidence. His weapon was pointed at the chest of a man wearing a green leather jacket, who had out his own gun and a fierce scowl. 

Ragnor Fell, Alec realized, blood running cold. Alec and Fell were no stranger to each other. Fell was Alec’s equivalent in the Bane organization, the heir to the position of enforcer, once the generations turned over new leadership. Both protective of their own families, they had exchanged heated words, even blows on some occasions, and that Fell was here...well, it didn’t bode well for any of them.

“Why don’t you just head on home, Fell,” Jace was saying, his tense voice a sharp contrast to his casual demeanor. “You’re not welcome here.” 

“I was under the impression this was a public club,” Fell answered back. “I figured if you wanted to show some ownership, you might stamp a big, ugly heron on it, just like you do to all your little lackies.”

“See, I think you’re just here looking for some action. You want to pick a fight. But if you’d rather not crawl away from here littered with bullet holes, ” Jace’s voice was deceivingly light, “I’d suggest you leave now.” Isabelle took a nervous step towards him, but with a subtle shake of his head, Jace waved her off. 

“That right there is just the problem, Herondale,” Fell sneered. “You think you own this city, you and your self-righteous daddy. But you know what? I don’t think I’m going to take that anymore. None of us are.”

Alec knew the tension was building. He could feel his own gun pressing up against his back, tucked carefully into his jeans, and he felt a familiar ease wash over him. He pulled out the gun and held it loosely in his hands, climbing the last few stairs and stepping out into the light. 

“Fell,” he said, effectively announcing his presence. All eyes swung to him, and he calmly walked towards the group. “Let’s all just back away before we start something in the middle of a very public street.”

“Ah, speaking of lackies,” Fell smirked, eyeing Alec’s gun. “Looks like big brother Lightwood has decided to join the party.”

“Whatever you think you’re starting, you won’t win this one,” Alec said, strolling over to stand beside Jace. They exchanged subtle nods. “It’s late, and we’ve all been drinking. Take your buddies and go home.”

Fell snarled, “This isn’t just some drunken argument, you prats. I’m telling you that -” he was interrupted.

“What’s going on here?” With a start, Alec recognized the silky voice. Magnus moved under the lamp light, gliding easily through the Bane entourage. His eyes slid over the group, resting for an extra second on Alec. Alec met his gaze for a moment, unsure what he saw in Magnus’s suddenly hard eyes.

“Magnus, this is what we discussed,” Fell insisted. 

“Bane,” Jace called. “You know you and your lot aren’t supposed to hang around here. Get out, before we have a real fight on our hands.”

Magnus studied him. He took a step towards Jace, and Jace immediately swung his gun around to point at Magnus’s chest. Alec gripped his own gun in his hands, torn between his loyalty and his newfound connection with the Bane heir. But Magnus didn’t have a weapon out, so Alec kept his gun pointed down.

“Herondale,” Magnus said coolly. “Crude, as usual.”

“What do you think you’re doing, bringing your guys here tonight? If I wasn’t in a good mood, I might take that as a declaration of war,” Jace sneered, cool demeanor quickly disappearing. 

Magnus stiffened. “As tough as you may believe you are, Jonothan, you don’t intimidate me.” 

Alec felt Isabelle move closer to him, and she laid a light hand on his arm. “Alec,” she whispered. He looked back at her, and her eyes were narrowed at Magnus. “We need to get out of here. Something is definitely not right.” 

Alec nodded at her. Nothing good could come of the two mafia heirs, both at least a little tipsy, facing off on a public street. Pushing back the voice in his head telling him not to mess up whatever he had started with Magnus, Alec stepped forward and raised his gun.

“Let’s keep this as simple as possible,” Alec said. “We’re all going to clear out. Put down our guns, and walk away. None of us need any violence tonight.”

Magnus looked at Alec then, raising an eyebrow. There was a drawn out pause, but Magnus nodded slowly. “Very well. We can agree to continue this another day.”

Alec slowly lowered his gun, motioning for Jace to do the same. Jace hesitated, but he followed Alec’s lead. Fell looked unhappy about it, but with Magnus’s prompting he put his own weapon away. 

“This conversation definitely is not over,” Fell said. The tension pulsed through the gathering, but after a moment’s pause, Magnus laid a hand on Fell’s arm and guided him out of the light of the street lamp. The rest of the group followed, quickly disappearing from sight.

Jace sighed, seemingly relieved, but Alec couldn’t relax. His heart was pounding, and the cold look he had seen on Magnus’s face was like a bucket of freezing water. Their flirty conversation in the bar suddenly seemed like it had been hours ago, and the happy haze had cleared from Alec’s mind. 

Pushing thoughts of Magnus away, Alec turned his attention to Jace and Isabelle.

“By the angel, you two, how the hell did you get yourselves into that mess?” Alec demanded.

“They know Pandemonium is our spot,” Jace said, shaking his head in annoyance. “They came looking for a fight.”

“We’ll need to watch them more closely, Fell and the rest of them,” Alec agreed. “If they’re getting restless, we need to be prepared for them to lash out.”

“And Magnus Bane,” Jace added. “He’s the worst of them. He keeps up that cool facade, but I’ve seen the damage he and his father have done. They’re ruthless, completely without mercy. They don’t care who they trample on their way to the top,” he looked deadly serious. “If they’re looking to start a war, I say we let them. Take down their organization once and for all.”

“We’re just as much as a corrupt organization as they are, Jace,” Isabelle said. 

“But we’re not cruel. We don’t threaten children to make parents cooperate, and we don’t kill our followers for only suspicions of disloyalty.”

“It doesn’t seem fair to compare the severity of corruption,” Alec said quietly. His heart was sinking lower and lower with each of Jace’s passing comments. Just a few minutes ago, the thought of seeing Magnus again had filled him with an airiness unlike anything he’d felt before. Now, thought, he felt nothing but sick to his stomach.

“We should head home,” Isabelle decided, deftly undoing her hair and re-braiding it. She smoothed out her dress and applied a fresh layer of lip gloss from her purse. 

“We’ve had enough trouble for the night,” Alec agreed. “And Jace, your father will want to hear about this.”

Jace grimaced. “You’re right. He’s not going to be happy. Might as well get this over with, I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say about it.”  
_____________

“I don’t think he was bluffing,” Jace told his father. Alec stood next to Jace in the conference room of the Herondale mansion. Isabelle was with them, as well as Robert Lightwood, Alec’s father and Stephen Herondale’s enforcer. Jace continued, “Fell was adamant that he was there to start a fight, and Magnus didn’t deny it. They’re trying to start something, something serious.” 

Robert nodded, saying to Stephen, “I have suspected that Asmodeus might be growing restless lately. His men have been circling the city, prowling into districts that they shouldn’t be.”

Stephen considered them. “The situation was diffused?” he said, his question directed at Alec. 

Stepping forward, Alec nodded. “We were separated inside the club. I found them outside, and Magnus Bane showed up shortly afterwards. Fell was determined to come to blows, but we reached an understanding. Magnus got his men out before anything happened.”

“Good,” Stephen said. “I think it’s clear that this is a decisive move on their part. Next time, we’ll need to be ready.”

“We cannot allow Asmodeus and his son to gain ground in the city,” Robert added. “The question is whether to wait them out a while longer, or make the first move.”

“They’re cruel,” Jace said, determination scrawled across his face. “They don’t follow rules or hold back. I say we hit them now, take them out before they have a chance to fire against us.”

“A good sentiment, son, but we can’t be too hasty. Asmodeus is clever, and I’m sure he’ll be hearing about your little altercation at the club soon. He’ll have his guard up.”

“So, what? We just let them get away with what Fell said at Pandemonium?” Isabelle demanded.

“If we must,” Robert said. 

Alec hesitated. He wanted to say something, come to Magnus’s defense, but he stopped himself. What was more important, his loyalty to his family? Or a guy he had just met in a bar?

But even so, Alec couldn’t get Magnus out of his head. His bright eyes, his silky voice, the way he looked at Alec like he was the only one in the room. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” he murmured to Jace. Jace looked at him strangely, but Alec just shook his head. “Bathroom,” he said.

Jace raised an eyebrow but nodded, turning to the conference table, where Robert had started pulling out files on the Banes. Alec slipped quietly out of the conference room, pushing out a side door and onto the mansion’s extensive gardens. He walked to a small bridge over a stream, hidden in a secluded corner.

The sky was dark, but the moon was full and shining down on the gardens. Leaning on the ledge of the bridge, Alec took the crumpled napkin out of his pocket, playing with the corners and looking out over the shallow water. 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk having anything more to do with Magnus, couldn’t risk messing around with complicated relations between dangerous mafias. Alec held the cocktail napkin in his hand, staring at the number scrawled in elegant handwriting. He had no idea what he had been thinking. Sighing in utter exasperation, he ripped up the napkin and let the pieces drift away in the wind. 

Alec leaned his elbows on the ledge of the bridge, holding his face in his hands. It was useless, anyway. Nothing between them would’ve lasted, not with the animosity between their families and the absolute mortification that he knew his father would experience if he found out that Alec was gay. 

No, it was much better to just forget about the whole thing. He was an enforcer; he had a job to do. He wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted by the silly musings of a child. 

Gathering himself, Alec stood up straight and brushed off his sleeves. He smoothed his hair out of his eyes and headed back to the mansion. 

Jace looked up as Alec entered the conference room, waving him over to the seat next to him. Jace gestured to the plans laid out on the table, maps of the areas that the Banes were known to frequent. Stephen and Robert were conversing in a serious tone, brows furrowed, pointing at various spots on the maps.

“So, what’s the verdict? Are we going offensive?” Alec asked.

“Nothing definite yet,” Jace said. “But yes, I think so. It’s time to put them in their place. And maybe chase them out of the city once and for all.” Alec could only nod along. 

The Herondales were on top, and they planned to stay there.


	3. Not An Option

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Monday!

If you wanted to make a deal with the Devil, you needn’t look further than New York City. For as long as there had been desperate people, there had been those willing to relieve them of their strife.

That is, for a price.

In the 1930’s, the city was filled with desperate people. There was no money, no jobs, and no resources. Crime rates climbed higher and higher as hope plunged into a dark pit, where it seemed determined to rot. To the people of New York City, there seemed to be only utter destruction on the horizon, and any glimmer of salvation from their despair was a notion only for idealists.

So an idea arose in the mind of a young business man. If he could produce even just the illusion of hope, he could have the despondent population eating out of his hands. He began to spread rumours, planting perceptions of a possible solution in peoples’ minds. 

He lured them into a trap of false security, convincing them that he could rescue them from the holes they had fallen into. He promised them salvation and restitution, and then just when he had them pouring themselves into his hands, he swept the floor out from under them.

He took their money, their houses, and any last hopes that they may have carried with them. He left families in ruin and escaped with growing profits. It wasn’t long before he had the system perfected.

He brought in friends and family, conspiring with them to widen the allure and extend the illusion of relief. The organization widened larger and larger, until it had consumed most of the city. The family’s name grew in infamy, and the people began to fear its connotations. They controlled the politics and the businesses, they facilitated questionable transactions within and outside of the city, and they squeezed the city dry.

They were feared, the Banes. The mention of the name meant hushed whispers and over-the-shoulder glances. For decades, they continued their practices uninterrupted. No one questioned their absolute underground authority.

Until the Herondales came along. 

The Bane organization had been running smoothly, without interruption, until the 1970s. It was then that a new family came into town, one with the resources and manpower to match the Bane authority. The Herondales were strong and intrusive, roaring into the city and sending a shockwave through the illegal underground. They had made their money successfully in foreign countries, and they had come armed with a deep organization and a booming voice.

The Banes had fought hard, but mighty as they were they had been unable to push the Herondales back out of the city. Similarly, as intrusive as the Herondales were, they were unable to force the Banes out. So the two families were forced to divide the city between them, never at peace, always on the brink of war. As the generations turned, new leadership took over, but old grudges never faded. 

The city entered the 21st century, and the mafias came with them. But a new age and new technological advances did nothing to quell the issues that were rooted deep within the population. Asmodeus Bane took over one side of the underground, while Stephen Herondale led the other. 

New generations were raised in the tense atmosphere, and they adopted their parents’ grudges. Asmodeus’s son, Magnus, grew up sophisticated and scheming, building an intricate network of his own loyal followers. Stephen’s son, Jace, was fierce and bold, confident in his own influence and leadership within the city. They clashed often, and they dragged their followers into their arguments. The anger behind their rivalry ran deep, and tensions between the two families grew impossibly more tangent. 

It surprised no one when they finally exploded.  
_____

“Must you always insist on starting fights at the most inopportune of times?” Magnus demanded, striding into the Bane mansion. “I had him, and then you went and jeopardized the entire plan.”

Ragnor followed him inside, matching his pace. “Herondale was asking for it, the little upstart. I can’t stand him thinking he owns the whole city.”

“Yes, well, that wasn’t the point of the outing, was it?”

“What does it matter? They know, now, that we aren’t content to sit back and let them take the city.”

“Have you no concept of strategy?” Magnus demanded. “If we can get to the inside of their organization first, it will be that much easier to take them down.”

“Alright, alright,” Ragnor said. “I’m sorry. How did it go with the Lightwood boy?”

The two stopped in front of a pair of large oak doors. Magnus sighed, shaking his head. “It went well, up until he figured out who I was.”

“And then he, what. Freaked? Punched you? I wish I could’ve seen that.”

“No, he didn’t punch me, Ragnor. He tried to run out. I stopped him and gave him my number. I doubt he’ll be calling, though, since you found it necessary to drag the whole lot into whatever sort of juvenile showdown that was outside the club.”

Ragnor shrugged. “You’re Magnus Bane, you won’t have a problem getting Lightwood infatuated with you.”

“The Herondale circle has very few holes in it. The most efficient way to get past their defenses is to have one of their inside men lead us right to the center of their whole organization,” Magnus said, turning the ornate handle on one of the doors. He pushed the door open to reveal a large office filled with expensive oak furniture. He glanced back at Ragnor. “And you’re right. It shouldn’t be a problem, as long as you follow the plan.”

Ragnor grinned. “Yeah, no one can resist those mysterious eyes, right?” he said, pushing Magnus playfully into the office. Magnus rolled his eyes, but he smiled at his friend.

“Come on, we need to discuss our next steps with my father. He’ll be here shortly.”

Ragnor made a face. “Oh, joy.”  
__________

Two Weeks Later

Jace sauntered into the restaurant, easy smirk on his face. Alec and Isabelle followed behind him, making sure the door jingled loudly at their entrance. It was three thirty in the afternoon, and the only patron Jace could see was an old man staring blankly out a window.

Jace approached the bar, swinging himself onto a stool. He glanced behind his shoulder and saw Alec lean casually against the closed door, folding his arms across his chest. Jace raised an eyebrow at him, and Alec nodded in acknowledgement. Isabelle walked up behind Jace, looking especially intimidating in a skin tight dress and tall heels, and stood behind him, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

Jace turned back to the bar and signalled for the bartender. It was unnecessary; the man had already seen them, and he had gone considerably paler. The bartender gulped, then moved down the bar to them. 

“Can - Can I get you anything?” he asked, voice shaking. 

“Just your owner,” Jace said, grinning crookedly at him.

“And a gin and tonic while you’re at it,” Isabelle added smoothly.

“Of course,” the bartender stammered. He hurried to prepare Isabelle’s drink. Just then, a door opened behind the bar, and a greying middle-aged man appeared from the back. Jace smiled wider, leaning nonchalantly on his elbows over the bar.

“Well hello there, Mr. Garroway. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Jace said.

Garroway’s eyes narrowed, and he walked over to them. He whispered something into the bartender’s ear, who nodded furiously and retreated quickly back into the kitchens. 

“Mr. Herondale,” Garroway said, grabbing a rag and proceeding to clean a dirty beer glass. “Can I get you anything?”

“Oh, your bartender already got us started,” Jace replied. Isabelle took a small sip from her drink, smiling around the glass.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Garroway forced out. “I believe we provided you with everything you requested this month.”

Jace paused for a moment, considering the man. “I like you, Luke. I can call you Luke, right?” Jace didn’t give him time to answer. “So I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to your restaurant, and I don’t think you would either. But you see, in order for me to make sure nothing happens to your restaurant, I’m going to need to request that you fulfill the rest of our little deal.”

Luke gritted his teeth. “I gave you the full amount.”

The smile began to slip off of Jace’s face. “According to our records, you didn’t.”

“According to my records, Mr. Herondale, I did.”

Jace straightened on the stool. “You wouldn’t mind if I just checked on those records, would you?”

Luke considered him for a moment, but it was clear he had no choice. “Alright,” he said stiffly. “Follow me.”

Jace’s grin returned, and he swung off the bar stool. He glanced at Alec, who discreetly locked the restaurant's doors and refolded his arms. With Isabelle on his arm, Jace followed Luke to the back of the restaurant, leaving Alec to guard the door.  
__________

Magnus watched Jace and Isabelle follow Luke Garroway into the kitchen. He leaned back into the dark corner booth, considering the situation carefully. His angle allowed him a good view of the front door, where Alexander Lightwood stood with a very serious look on his face. Magnus couldn’t help but smile.

Alec Lightwood. Jace Herondale’s best friend and right hand man, the perfect in into the inner workings of the Herondale network. It was no secret in the underground that the Herondale organization was a very religious one, that they had no room for differences, that they would very much see any sort of blatant disregard for tradition as an intolerable step out of line. 

And it was also no secret, to Magnus, anyway, that Alec Lightwood was very much gay. He had no doubt that the boy had been fighting it, terrified of the repercussions that would result from his family discovering his secret. And it made it all the easier for Magnus to slip in through the cracks, to provide the sort of attention that Alec had been denied, and to take advantage of it.

Magnus stood up from the booth, gliding smoothly toward the front of the restaurant. He tracked the exact moment when Alec heard his footsteps and turned sharply in his direction. Magnus smiled slowly. Those blue eyes were more beautiful than he had remembered.

Magnus saw the recognition snap onto Alec’s face as Magnus approached. Magnus rushed forward and grabbed Alec’s wrist before he could reach for his phone, no doubt to call for the rest of his team. 

“Not so hasty, Darling,” Magnus said softly, moving subtly into Alec’s personal space. 

“Magnus,” Alec said, conflicting emotions flickering across his face. “You shouldn’t be here, the Herondales have a claim over this establishment.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not here to disrupt your racketeering. I’m much more interested in you, Alexander.”

“Like I said, you shouldn’t be here,” Alec said, pulling out of Magnus’s grip. He stood up straighter, only about an inch shorter than Magnus. “I need to ask you to leave.”

“Now wait just a moment,” Magnus murmured. “You never called me back.”

Alec looked startled, but he quickly composed himself. “I realized, like you should, that we have no business exchanging the kind of conversation we had at Pandemonium. I think it’s best if we both just forget that night ever happened and move on.”

“You think it’s best?” Magnus asked. “Because I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

“That’s not an option,” Alec said. “Now go, before I’m forced to make you.”

Magnus sighed inwardly. It seemed this would be more difficult than he had expected. He moved back into Alec’s space, backing him against the doors. Alec reached up to push him away, but Magnus grabbed his wrists and leaned in closer. He heard Alec suck in a breath, and he rushed into the opening.

“Meet me tonight, 11 o’clock, at Taki’s. It’s a nice, secure little place. They know how to look away,” Magnus whispered in Alec’s ear. There was a moment’s pause, then he was shoved back.

“Get out, now,” Alec demanded, blue eyes bleeding darker. Magnus smirked. 

“Whatever you say, Darling,” he said, backing away and straightening his jacket. He winked at Alec, then swiftly unlocked the restaurant doors and slipped outside. He smiled when he heard the door lock again behind him.

He had a feeling he had made the right impression.  
__________

Jace and Isabelle followed Luke into the back of the restaurant. The man was walking stiffly, glancing over his shoulder every few moments. Jace glanced at Isabelle, and she smiled back at him. 

Luke stalked over to a cluttered wooden desk and pulled a heavy book from it, flipping it open in front of them.

“There, see?” Luke said, pointing harshly at the ledger. “We paid you the full fee this month. In cash, just like you asked.” 

“Hmm,” Jace said, studying the record book. “It does seem to say that, doesn’t it.”

“Odd, that it doesn’t match up with our books,” Isabelle commented. 

“It is strange.”

Luke shook his head angrily. “I don’t have anything left to give you. It’s been a slow month,” he said. 

“Oh, that’s just too bad,” Jace said, frowning in mock disappointment. “We may have to find -”

“Luke?” the back door opened, and a girl poked her head through. “Are you in here?”

Luke flinched, paling at the sound of her voice. “Clary,” he called. “Stay outside for a minute, I’ll be right there.”

Jace froze at the voice. He recognized it, he was sure he did, and it didn’t take long for him to place it. He wiped the surprise from his face, just as Luke turned back to him.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?” Luke tried to distract them from the girl outside.

“Who is that?” Jace asked instead. Isabelle looked at him strangely. “Why don’t you let her in?”

“No, I don’t think that’s -”

“Clary!” Jace called. “Come on in!”

The door opened again, and a redheaded girl entered slowly, confusion written on her face. She was as gorgeous as Jace remembered her, dancing with her at Pandemonium those few weeks ago. Her laugh had been unlike anything he had heard in a while, and she stood out in his mind over all the other beautiful girls he had wooed in the past. 

“Luke?” she said again. “Who -” she stopped suddenly, looking Jace dead in the eyes. A blush spread across her cheeks. “You. I recognize you from Pandemonium.”

“Hey, Beautiful, it’s good to see you again,” Jace said. Isabelle looked between them, searching Jace’s face for an explanation. He waved her off. 

“What are you doing here?” Clary asked, dumbfounded. She looked at Luke, “How do you know them?”

“Mr. Herondale and I are in the middle of some business,” Luke said slowly. “Clary, why don’t you go check on the front, see if the customers need anything.”

Clary hesitated. She turned to Jace and looked him directly in the eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked again. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the counter, daring him to shoo her away. 

Jace raised an eyebrow, surprised at her assertiveness. “Clary,” he drawled out her name. “I think you should listen to your daddy there.” 

“Alright, I don’t know who you think you are, Mr. Herondale,” she exaggerated the title, “but this is my family’s restaurant. Whatever business you have with Luke, you have with me.”

Jace’s smile slid off his face. Isabelle looked at him, pushing him with her eyes to put Clary in her place. Jace worked his jaw, looking between the Luke and his daughter. He was Jace Herondale, he didn’t give bow to anyone. But this girl, she was different. And for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to push her away so quickly..

“I think we were just finishing up, actually,” Jace said finally. Isabelle looked at him like he had gone crazy, but he shook his head subtly. “I’ll see you around, Clary. Luke.” 

Jace turned swiftly and walked back out to the bar, Isabelle following at his heels. Alec still stood by the front door, looking considerably paler than when they had left him. Jace ignored it, unlocking the door and pushing out onto the sidewalk outside. Alec and Isabelle came out behind him, exchanging worried glances.

“Jace, what the hell was that?” Isabelle demanded. 

“Forget about this place. They already paid the fee, anyway,” Jace said.

“Forget about - Jace, that’s not how we do things,” Isabelle seemed almost at a loss for words.

“I said forget about it, Isabelle. Drop it.”

Isabelle threw her hands up in frustration, looking at Alec for support. He didn’t seem to be watching, though; he was gazing off to a point just left of Jace’s shoulder. 

“What on Earth is up with you two,” Isabelle grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I think you'll notice that Magnus is a bit out of character at the moment. Don't go anywhere yet; as the story goes on, you'll start to see more of the canon Magnus shine through.
> 
> Please comment what you thought! I'm always looking to improve my writing style or plot points, so I'd love any compliments or complaints!


	4. I Want You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Monday!

“Alec, where are you going?”

Alec cringed, glancing over his shoulder at his adoptive brother. “Nowhere, Jace. Just on a walk.”

Jace regarded him suspiciously, raising one delicate blonde eyebrow. “Oh, really? And where might you be going?”

Alec rolled his eyes, turning to fully face the other boy. “Jace. I’m going on a walk around Central Park. I’ll be back for the conference tonight.” 

“Alright, fine, be weird and mysterious,” Jace conceded. “Well, carry on, then. Maryse will kill you if you’re late, though.”

“Of course,” Alec said, already halfway out the door. “Tell her I’ll be there.” Jace nodded, sauntering down the hall and out of sight.

Alec huffed a sigh of relief and hurried out the front doors of the Herondale mansion. Once he was a few blocks away and sure he wasn’t being followed, Alec brushed his dark hair over his eyes and flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt. He shoved one hand in the sweatshirt’s pocket and used the other to pull his phone out of his back pocket.

‘Where are you, Beautiful? I’m waiting’

Alec smiled at the text and quickened his pace.

‘Almost there, had to make it past my family’

The response came almost instantly:

‘I repeat: I’m waiting’

Alec was nearly running now. He jostled past cranky crowds on bustling streets, passing skyscrapers and trendy store fronts. The throngs of people began to thin as he reached a seedier, less frequented area of New York City, until the sidewalks were nearly empty. 

Alec rounded the corner of an abandoned office building and was grabbed roughly by the hips. Strong hands swung him around into an alleyway, and suddenly Alec was pulled flush against a firm, warm body.

“Took you long enough, Beautiful,” Magnus said. He was grinning down at Alec, gold-green eyes sparkling with glee. Alec smiled back up at him and grabbed onto Magnus’s shoulders to steady himself.

“You know how Jace is. He has to know everything about everyone.”

“Hmm, only too true. But let’s not talk about Jace now, Love. I’d rather focus on us.”

Alec barely noticed his phone slip from his hand and clatter to the ground as Magnus used his grip on Alec’s hips to push him against the wall. Magnus reached up to Alec’s face and brushed his hair away, allowing the hood to flop back.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You should never hide, Darling. Especially not those eyes.”

Alec blushed bright red, ducking his head away from Magnus’s scrutinizing gaze. Magnus chuckled softly at his bashfulness, guiding Alec’s eyes back to meet his with a hand on his cheek. He tilted his head down to kiss the younger boy, slowly and sweetly.

Alec sighed as they parted, “I missed you. Even a week apart seemed like forever.”

Magnus grinned, renewing his hold on Alec’s hips and kissing him with deeper passion. Alec moved his hands from Magnus’s shoulders to the sides of his face, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

Magnus’s hands slipped under the hem of Alec’s shirt, and he dragged his nails up his spine, sending shivers through the other boy. Alec groaned in pleasure, pressing himself impossibly closer and running a hand down Magnus’s chest. Alec’s hands traveled lower, one slipping into the back pocket of Magnus’s jeans. Magnus hummed happily into Alec’s mouth, switching to cup the younger boy’s jaw with both hands and using his leverage to tilt Alec’s head back farther. 

Alec was too warm all over, but the feeling was like nothing he could experience outside of Magnus. These few and far between moments he managed to steal alone with his boyfriend made all the secrecy worth it. With Magnus, Alec felt like the most loved person in the world.

Alec moved his hand lower, and just like that the illusion was shattered. Alec stilled suddenly, turning his face away from Magnus’s grip.

Magnus watched with worried eyes as Alec reached behind his boyfriend’s back and grasped the cold, hard object he felt tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Taking hold of the gun’s handle, he carefully withdrew it and turned it over in his hands, stepping away from Magnus.

“Alec,” Magnus started hesitantly, trying to gauge the reaction in the boy’s blue eyes. “I know what you must be thinking, but-” he began to explain himself, but Alec interrupted.

“Why...why would you bring this to meet me, Magnus?” His voice was a controlled quiet. “Did you think I’d lead my family here? You should know I’m more careful than that.” Alec glanced at the gun in disgust and shoved it back into Magnus’s chest. Magnus took it, pushing it quickly back into his jeans and reaching for Alec’s arm. 

“No, darling, of course I know you’re careful. You and I,” he laced their fingers together, “are taking a risk being together, but there’s no one I’d rather take this risk for.” 

“But why the gun, Magnus?” Alec demanded, though he allowed himself to be pulled back into Magnus’s arms.

“Protection, Love. For me and for you. As much as I enjoy losing myself in you, I can never forget that we are always in danger because of who our families are.” Magnus slipped his arms around Alec’s waist, and Alec rested his forehead against Magnus’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” Alec admitted. “Of course you’re right. To let our guards down could be disastrous.” They were quiet for a moment, notes of somber realities hanging in the air.

A loud jingle sung from the couple’s feet, making Alec pull back with a start. He glanced around wildly, eyes finally finding the source of the ringing: his phone was lying right where he dropped it on the cobblestones of the alley, half submerged in a pool of grimey rainwater. He crouched down and snatched up the phone, wiping the screen off with the hem of his hoodie. The call was from Jace.

Magnus watched warily as Alec swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Alec.”

“Yes, Jace, it’s me, what’s up?”

“Alec.”

“I can hear you,” Alec said, brows furrowing.

“Alec!”

“By the Angel, Jace, what’s wrong?”

“ALEC!”

Alec jolted up, nearly colliding with the blonde head leaning over him.

“What just…?” he mumbled, sleepy haze still clouding his brain.

“Alec, jeez dude, you sleep like a freaking rock,” Jace laughed, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Ugh,” Alec groaned, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He swept his messy hair out of his face. He was in the Herondale mansion’s library, sprawled out on the couch in front of the fireplace. He heard a quiet thump, and he looked down to see the book he had been reading facedown on the floor.

Jace snorted at him. “It’s almost 11, man. You’ve been passed out on the couch all night.”

“Right, yeah, thanks,” Alec said. He picked his book up off the ground and set it on the coffee table. He stood up and stretched, yawning widely. 

Jace turned to leave, still chuckling, but stopped before he got to the door. “Hey, were you dreaming or something? You were saying something, but I couldn’t understand any of it.”

Alec froze mid yawn, fuzzy images and a strangely warped memory of heat rushing back through his head. He coughed violently, sputtering.

“No, I don’t think so,” he choked out. “I don’t remember anything.”

Jace shrugged. “Whatever. Go to bed, man, you look exhausted.” He left the library, leaving Alec standing by the dying fireplace. 

Alec was suddenly wide awake. The images of the dream flashed back through his mind in startling clarity; meeting Magnus, gazing into his gold-green eyes...kissing him. Alec shuddered. It had felt so real.

He checked the time on his phone, blinking when the screen was too bright for his sleep-filled eyes. 10:45. Magnus’s words at the restaurant earlier that day echoed in his mind. Meet me tonight, 11 o’clock, at Taki’s. It’s a nice, secure little place. They know how to look away.

No. There was no way Alec was actually considering this. He was going to bed, getting some sleep, and waking up in the morning to continue with his usual, Herondale-family-member life. Magnus Bane was not included in any part of that plan.

But Alec could still feel the warmth of the dream. His chest ached; completely irrationally, he felt as if he had lost something that had mattered to him. He stood there, staring at the fire, chewing on his bottom lip. 

Alec sighed. Damn it, he couldn’t get those eyes, that voice out of his head. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself, but the feeling of rebellion, of finally giving in to the desire that had been growing inside of him, gave him a certain rush. And he wanted to keep feeling it. 

He went quietly out of the library, making sure his family had dispersed from the hallway. He grabbed a dark jacket from the coat closet and pulled it on. After a moment’s hesitation, he tucked a gun into an inside pocket of the jacket. He turned the doorknob on the front door carefully, wincing when the oak doors creaked for a moment. He paused, but he heard no sounds from the rest of the house.

Alec slipped out the doors, closing them slowly behind him. The night was dark and silent, the expansive mansion grounds stretching out in front of him. Alec hurried down the stone driveway, finally reaching the iron gates. 

He took a deep breath, heart pounding. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Alec nevertheless pushed open the gates and locked it behind him, tugging the jacket tighter around him. 

He’d heard of Taki’s. It was a sort of middle ground, an establishment in the heart of mafia territory that had no loyalty to either side. There was an unspoken agreement that in Taki’s, there were no families, no loyalties, no violence. It was a place of business, the right kind, and some pretty decent food. That was all.

Alec strode away from the sort of island that was the Herondale estate. The neighborhood was rich and quiet, so the streets were fairly empty at this time of night. Just a block away from the mansion was a garage. Alec opened the door with a keycode and went inside, flicking on the stark overhead lights. They illuminated a row of shiny, expensive vehicles, from ferraris to camaros to SUVs. 

Alec went to the back, where his own black motorcycle was parked. He slipped on a pair of leather gloves and a black helmet, zipping up his jacket. He climbed onto the motorcycle and turned the key, and the bike roared to life. He sped out of the garage, pressing a button on the handlebars to close the door behind him. 

Alec sped down the streets. He tried to let the noise of the wind and the bike’s engine drown out his thoughts, but it wasn’t working. Apprehension stirred in his stomach; he had no idea what he heading into. But that night at Pandemonium, the intriguing tension he had felt when Magnus approached him in the Garroway restaurant, the warmth of the dream still resonating in his chest, it all made him press on.

He slowed the bike down as he approached the block where he knew Taki’s to be. He parked it on a backstreet and left his helmet lying on the seat; it had the Herondale symbol painted on it, so he knew no one would dare touch it.

It was past 11 now. The restaurant was almost empty, with just a few tables occupied by customers. The place was organized in a way that allowed it to be mostly shaded booths, giving an extra privacy to occupants. Alec entered with his guard up, knowing there could be shady people inside. A hostess stood at the front counter. Alec could tell by her carefully blank expression that she knew exactly who he was.

“Can I help you, Mr. Lightwood?” she asked calmly. 

“Yes,” he said. He wondered how much he should reveal; the restaurant was popular for looking away from most of the things that went down inside its walls, but Alec could never be too careful. “I’m actually meeting someone -”

“And he’s a bit late,” a voice said from behind him. Alec sucked in a breath. He recognized the voice immediately; it was the same that had penetrated even his dreams.

Alec turned, meeting Magnus’s eyes. The man looked smug, as if Alec’s presence had won him some sort of bet.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Magnus said, nodding at the hostess. She watched them for a moment, then left the hostess stand and went back into the kitchen.

“I’m not surprised you came,” Magnus murmured.

Alec was quiet for a moment. His pounding heart had calmed, and he suddenly couldn’t figure out how he’d ended up agreeing to meet Magnus at all.

“What do you want from this?” he asked, finally. 

Magnus looked at him strangely. “I thought I made that clear, darling,” he said. “I want you.”  
__________

“Come,” Magnus said, gesturing for Alec to follow him. He guided Alec to a rounded booth in a back corner of the restaurant. Alec slid in first, and Magnus followed, making sure they were close but allowing Alec a bit of space. 

“I’ve never been here before,” Alec said suddenly, looking around at the mishmosh of photos on the walls. Magnus watched his face. Alec was so expressive, though Magnus suspected he didn’t realize it. It was endearing, the storybook of expressions that passed through Alec’s eyes. Magnus didn’t meet many people that seemed so genuine, even if he had to search past the mask of seriousness to find it.

It almost made him feel bad, that he was using this boy’s vulnerabilities against him.

“That’s unfortunate,” Magnus replied. “I’d suggest trying their milkshakes.”

A little smile twitched at the corner of Alec’s lips. “You drink their milkshakes?” he asked.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. “Why not? They’re quite good.”

“I guess you just don’t strike me as a milkshake sort of person.”

“Hmm, well, maybe after you try one you’ll see,” Magnus said with a chuckle. “Kaelie,” he called to a passing waitress. She stopped at their table, smiling softly at him. 

“What can I get for you boys?” she asked.

“Two milkshakes, if you could. Chocolate. This one here hasn’t tried them before,” he said, nodding in Alec’s direction. 

“Of course,” Kaelie said, walking off to put in their order. 

“Trust me, darling, they’re the best you’ve ever had,” Magnus told Alec.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Alec glanced away again, and Magnus noticed that he was wearing a pair of leather gloves. 

“Did you ride a motorcycle here?” he asked, resting his elbows on the table and leaning closer to Alec.

“What?” Alec asked, as if the question had startled him. Magnus nodded at his gloves. “Oh, right, yes. It’s faster, I guess.”

“I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before,” Magnus said truthfully. 

“Really?” Alec asked, surprised. “Maybe -” but he cut himself off.

“Maybe what, Alexander?” Magnus was almost sure he saw a hint of a blush tinge Alec’s cheeks.

“Nothing. Well, I was about to say that maybe I could show you, on mine, but. Nevermind,” Alec stumbled over his words. 

Magnus felt a strange warmth in his chest at Alec’s words. They were endearing without meaning to be, a genuine offer.

“I might have to take you up on that,” Magnus said, and he found himself meaning it. 

Kaelie showed up just then with two tall glasses of chocolate milkshake. She set them down in front of them with a quick, “enjoy!” and left them with their drinks. 

Alec took a sip, and Magnus laughed out loud at the pleased expression that rolled over his face. 

“Wow, that’s good,” Alec said, as if he hadn’t quite believed Magnus’s review. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Magnus said, taking his own drink through the wide straw. 

“What are you trying to do, introducing me to all these new drinks?" Alec joked. "My brother would love this,” he added, almost as an afterthought, as he took another gulp.

Magnus snorted. “Somehow I cannot picture Jace Herondale sitting in this restaurant and drinking milkshakes.”

Alec looked startled. “Oh, no, that’s not...I didn’t mean Jace,” he said quickly, like he wanted to avoid the subject of the blonde. “My youngest brother. Max. He has a sweet tooth.” Alec looked suddenly uncertain, as if he should’ve held his tongue because Magnus could somehow use the information against him.

Magnus searched for a way to reassure him. “I never had a younger brother,” he said. “No siblings at all, actually. It can get lonely.”

“You’d say that until you’ve experienced the chaos my siblings have caused,” Alec said, exasperated, sounding more like a parent talking about their unruly children. “But it is nice. Siblings are people you know you can always count on. It’s more than loyalty, it’s a bond that runs right through your veins.”

Alec’s face changed when he spoke about his siblings. His eyes lit up, and Magnus found himself wanting very much to keep that life in his eyes.

“Sorry,” Alec said suddenly. He had noticed Magnus watching him. 

“No, that’s alright,” Magnus reassured him. “You look so different when you talk about what you’re passionate about. It’s lovely.”

Alec’s eyes widened, and this time Magnus was sure he saw him blush deeply. He ducked his face away, busying himself with his milkshake. 

“Hey,” Magnus said, reaching out to take Alec’s hand. Alec looked up at him immediately. He tried to pull his hand away, but Magnus held him fast. It wasn’t like it had been at Garroway’s, though. This time to touch was warm but not hostile.

Alec relaxed in Magnus’s grip, and Magnus ran his fingers over the white scars. 

“You’re different, too,” Alec told him.

Magnus looked into Alec’s earnest eyes, and he found himself wanting to believe him.

“What do you mean?”

Alec shook his head. “The way you talk to Jace, the way you were at Garroway’s. That’s not really you, is it?”

“What makes you say that?” Magnus asked, heart beating pleasantly faster.

“You always seem like you’re in charge. You’re good at that, at having authority. But you care more than you’d like people to think, don’t you? Like at Pandemonium, before you knew who I was. You seemed to care then.”

Magnus searched for a response, but he couldn’t find one. Wasn’t he supposed to be drawing Alec in, and not the other way around? Alec’s blue eyes were so earnest, so honest, and Magnus thought he could see a different version of himself within them.

“Darling,” Magnus said, trying to shake the feeling away. “I think we still have a lot to learn about each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


	5. A Shred of Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates on Mondays!
> 
> This is a bit of a filler chapter, but it's all for the sake of the plot.

“Is there anything else I can get you folks?” Clary asked cheerfully, setting her hands on her hips.

“I think we’re good now,” the man said, barely glancing at her. 

“Alrighty then, enjoy!” Clary said. She turned from the table and dodged Maia, who was carrying a tray of drinks to another table. She went back into the kitchen and grabbed her water glass from the shelf, taking a long sip. 

“The guy at table 12 looks like a real piece of work,” Jordan said, chuckling at her sour expression. 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Clary said, rolling her eyes. She shook her head, and her messy ponytail swished behind her. “I am very, very positive that he asked for fries with his burger. And when I brought him fries, what did he do? He insisted that he had ordered a baked potato, not fries, and demanded his meal for free. Honestly, some people,” she huffed. She did not spend her only days off from the hospital at the restaurant just to be snapped at by snobby pricks. 

“I feel bad for his date, she looks miserable,” Jordan laughed. 

“Jordan,” Maia called as she entered the kitchen, “table 24 needs a refill on their cokes.”

“You got it, babe,” Jordan said, grinning at Maia as he swaggered past her. Maia rolled her eyes at him, but Clary caught a quick smile on her face.

“And Clary, you just got sat at 43.”

“Thanks Maia,” Clary said, setting her glass back on the shelf and tightening the apron around her waist. She pulled out her pen and notebook and swung out the kitchen doors.

Clary’s eyes narrowed when she saw who was sitting at 43. “Oh, uh uh,” she muttered under her breath. She stalked over to the table, tossing a few loose curls out of her face.

“What are you doing here,” she demanded, mouth firmly set in a scowl.

The young man looked up when she spoke. He smiled crookedly at her, leaning easily back in his chair. “Well I was hoping I could start with a drink,” Jace Herondale told her, voice like the smooth scales of a serpent.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, or what you think you’ve got to gain, but I really don’t appreciate it right now. My day has already been rough, I don’t need you adding to that,” Clary ground out.

Jace raised an eyebrow. “Table 12, right? Guy’s a prick, doesn’t know how to treat a good server.”

“Oh, and you would know?” 

“I’d like to think I do,” Jace said. Clary glared, but he didn’t seem perturbed by it.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to leave, are you,” Clary sighed in exasperation. 

Jace shrugged, looking around casually. “I’ve heard you’ve got great burgers. Come on, you’re not going to leave me sitting here thirsty are you?” The corners of his mouth twitched, like he was laughing at an inside joke.

“Fine,” Clary gave in. “What can I get you to drink?”

“A water would be awesome, thanks,” Jace said, picking up his menu.

“I’ll bring it right out,” Clary said, flashing him an exaggerated smile. She whipped around and stalked back to the kitchen. She prepared the water and grabbed a straw, glaring at the drink faucet. Jordan gave her a strange look and steered clear of her as she shoved her way out of the kitchen.

Clary stopped when she saw that table 43 was now empty. Confused, her glare slipped from her face for a moment. She set the drink and straw down, glancing around.

“Ah, seriously?!” an aggravated shout came from behind her. She turned and saw the man at table 12 leaping out of his chair and staring down at his pants. She couldn’t help but huff a surprised laugh when she saw that his soda had spilled all over the front of his pants. Served him right, she thought.

“Sorry, man, my bad,” she heard. Looking closer, she saw that Jace was standing next to the table, looking far from apologetic.

“I’ll show you sorry!” the soda-covered man growled. “You little - I’m going to have to have these dry cleaned!”

“Ah, sucks for you man. Looks like my drink just got to my table, though. Enjoy your food,” Jace said. He walked smoothly away from the table, leaving the man angrily wiping at his pants and his date trying to hide her laughter.

Clary narrowed her eyes as Jace slid back into his seat. He looked at her as he took a sip of his drink, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, ‘What? It was an accident.’

Clary tried to fight the smile that wanted to cross her lips. She shook her head, looking down at her notebook. “So, have you decided what you want?”  
__________

After Jace left, Clary cleaned off the table and grabbed the bill. She felt torn. The Jace she had met at Pandemonium had been cool and mysterious, with a roguish smile and great abs. He had seemed genuinely interested in her, though, unlike most of the other guys she had met at the club. Clary had had fun with him, almost dragging Simon back to see if she could find him there again.

But then the other day, in the restaurant, she had seen a totally different side of him. He had had a cold glint in his eyes, and the way he talked to her was belittling, not to mention how nervous Luke had seemed. Clary had been disappointed and angry; she had really liked him, but it seemed like he was just as douchey as the rest of the guys out there. So she got over him.

Then he had to show up at the restaurant again, but this time, as a paying customer. He flirted, smiled at her, asked her about her day. It was giving her a headache, the constant shifts in personality.

She opened the black booklet and took out the receipt, ready to finish the transaction. She stopped when she saw the writing on the bottom.

‘Thanks for the conversation, I’ve never met anyone as willing to talk endlessly about CW shows as you. I’d love to expand on the subject -Jace’ Underneath the note was a phone number, then, ‘ps, tell Luke our deal is off’.

Clary sighed. Damn it, why did this boy have to be so confusing? She had always prided herself on being good at figuring men out, but Jace Herondale was evading her.

“You look deep in thought,” Luke commented, coming up behind her. 

“Mmm,” Clary hummed, shoving the receipt in her pocket. The other servers were clearing out around her; it was nearly 4 o’clock, and most of them were heading home after the lunch shift. Clary was the only server still clocked in.

Clary followed Luke into his office, closing the door most of the way behind her. She fiddled with her apron as he pulled up an accounts sheet on his computer. 

“Go ahead and ask,” Luke said, still looking at his computer.

“What?” Clary said, startled.

“There’s something on your mind,” Luke said, spinning around in his chair. “What are you thinking about?”

Clary hesitated. “Jace Herondale,” she said finally. “Who is he, really? What was he doing here, why did he make you so angry?”

Luke paused, eyes hardening. “Forget about him, Clary. He’s dangerous.”

“What does that mean?” Clary demanded. “He said he had business with you. What was it?” 

“Clary, I don’t know why you’re suddenly so interested in this, but you need to drop it. If you ever see Herondale again, you walk the other way.” Luke stood and left the office, and Clary followed him out to the empty bar.

“He said the deal is off,” Clary said. Luke froze in his track, turning to her swiftly. He looked confused and angry, all at the same time.

“He what?! Clary, how - when did he say that?” Luke was utterly flustered. 

“Today, when he ate at the restaurant,” Clary said stubbornly.

A weary expression fell over Luke’s face, and he suddenly looked much older. “Clary,” he said, “I’m asking you to let it go. Jace Herondale is a dangerous man who does not have time for girls that ask too many questions.”

“Please,” Clary begged. “I just want to know who he is. Tell me, and I’ll leave it alone. I swear.”

“Fine,” Luke said. He glanced around, as if someone might be listening in on their conversation. The restaurant was empty, though, so Clary ushered him to go on.

“There’s more going on in this city than most people realize,” Luke said. “I won’t sugarcoat it.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Listen, Clary. There are two mafia families in this city. The Herondales are one of them.”

Clary paled, and her heart stuttered. “Herondales?”

Luke nodded. “Jace Herondale is the heir to one of the mafia families. He was here the other day to collect protection money. We have no choice but to pay it, it doesn’t do any good to be on the bad side of a mafia.”

“So he was here to threaten you,” Clary said, her eyes bleeding with red. “The gall, to come back in and eat our food, after everything he’s done.”

“Clarissa,” Luke said, “you won’t do anything with this information. I cannot stress it enough, Herondale is dangerous. Stay away from him. If he ever comes in again, I want you to have someone else serve him. One of the boys. If he tries to talk to you, get away as soon as you can. Promise me.”

Anger burned in Clary’s veins, but she knew she had to put Luke at ease. “I promise,” she said.  
__________

“Jon!” a voice called as the doors to his office swung open. Jonathan looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow as his sister burst into his office. “Jon, I need to talk to you.”

“You could have knocked,” he murmured as Clary whirled around the desk, dragging a chair over to sit next to him. 

“What seems to be the matter, dear sister?” Jonathan asked, watching amusedly as Clary panted with agitation.

“Jace Herondale,” she said. She slammed her hands on his desk and stared directly in Jonathan’s eyes, as if she was questioning him in an interrogation room. “He’s a mafia boss, I already know that. What can you tell me about him?”

Jonathan was suddenly on full alert. “Why the interest New York City’s mafias, Clary?”

Clary faltered for a moment, chewing on her lip. Jonathan watched her face closely. He wasn’t as close to his little sister as he would’ve liked, and he sometimes had trouble reading the flipbook of expressions that ran across her face. She spent way too much time at their stepfather’s restaurant, which Jonathan did not approve of. Luke Garroway was a bad influence, a disgrace to his family’s name. But Clary respected the man, so Jonathan allowed it.

“Clary,” he pushed for an answer.

“Did you know the Herondales were targeting Luke’s restaurant?” Clary asked.

Jonathan was genuinely taken aback, but he kept his face void of expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, they were demanding protection money. He’s our dad, Jon, and you’re the most decorated detective in the NYPD. How could you possibly not see what they were doing?”

“Luke Garroway is our stepfather, Clary. Our father is the chief of police, sitting in the office a few feet away from my own,” Clary looked so angry, and Jonathan’s face softened. “I don’t spend time at the restaurant, and Luke and I don’t often see eye to eye. I truly had no idea. He could have come to me about it,” he reminded her.

“But he wouldn’t have wanted to tell you or Dad. He’s too proud.”

“Exactly,” Jonathan agreed. Clary seemed to be calming down. “How did you fall into this discovery?”

“I walked in on Jace Herondale talking to Luke in the kitchens. I didn’t hear what they were talking about, but Luke looked so angry. He was upset that I saw them. Today I made Luke tell me who he was.”

Clary’s eyes shifted, like she was leaving something out, but Jonathan let it pass. “You saw him at the restaurant?” Jonathan confirmed. Clary nodded. “Was he alone?”

“No, actually,” Clary said, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to remember something. “There was a girl with him. I remember her having dark hair, and she was beautiful. But she didn’t talk much, I was more focused on Jace.”

“And that was it? It was just the two of them that confronted Luke?”

“Yeah, I think so. Should there have been someone else?”

Jonathan thought for a moment. He had no real desire to involve Clary in police business, but since she had already come to him…

Jonathan stood from his desk and pulled open a file cabinet. He took out a file of papers and opened it, flipping through until he found the packet of photographs he was looking for. He spread the photos out for Clary to see.

“Do you recognize any of these people?” he asked.

Clary bent over the photographs. Each one showed the face of a different mafia member, a spread of both the Herondales and the Banes. Most of the photos were taken from the side or from an odd angle, but they made the faces clear enough. 

Clary picked up the headshot of Jace Herondale. She stared at it, and she seemed to be searching for something within the cold expression Herondale showed in the photograph. 

“This is Jace, obviously,” she said. “He was the one that was talking to Luke. Luke told me who he was.”

Jonathan nodded, taking the photo from her hands and tucking it back into the file. Clary seemed hesitant to let it go, but she handed it off anyway.

“Anyone else?” Jonathan asked.

Clary slid her fingers over the photos, scattering them over the desk. “Her,” she said, pointing at a glossy shot of a girl with shiny dark hair. She was looking right at the camera, seemingly taunting the photographer with a cruel little smirk. “That’s the girl that was with Jace.”

“Her name is Isabelle Lightwood,” Jonathan told her. Clary looked up at him, and he could tell she hadn’t expected him to share as much. “She is a part of the Herondale organization. Her brother, Alexander, is Jace’s right-hand man,” Jonathan held up the picture of the tall, dark-haired Lightwood. “Are you sure you didn’t see him at the restaurant?”

Clary shook her head with a frown. “No, sorry, I don’t recognize him.” Clary paused. “But him, I know I’ve seen before,” she pointed to Magnus Bane, looking regal on the balcony of a five-star hotel. “Not too long ago, actually. He was at the restaurant before Jace came in. I sat him, but he didn’t want anything except coffee. He must’ve left before the others did; he was gone when I went back out on the floor.”

“Magnus Bane,” Jonathan murmured. “What was he doing there?”

“Who is he?” Clary demanded.

“Magnus is the heir to the other mafia family. The Banes. They don’t get along with the Herondales, and the two families have had a history of violence. If they’re encroaching on each others’ territory, well. Nothing good can come of that.”

“Jon, what do we do? We have to make sure they stay away from the restaurant.”

“Of course, Clary,” he was quiet for a moment, considering his options. “Does Luke have cameras in his restaurant?”

“Yeah, actually, he does.”

“I’d like to see the footage,” Jonathan said. He got up from his desk and pulled on his jacket, grabbing his keys from his desk.

“Right now?” Clary asked, rushing after him.

“Yes, now. You want to protect Luke’s restaurant, don’t you?”  
__________

Jonathan Morgenstern had worked hard to get to where he was. His father expected perfection, and he had no tolerance for weakness. So Jonathan had fought his way to the top, crushing anyone who had tried to get in his way. Climbing the latter in this fashion, it hadn’t taken him long to become the most respected detective in the NYPD.

Besides his father, Valentine Morgenstern, of course.

But no matter how many cases he solved, how many bad guys he sent to jail, there was one case that constantly evaded him: the mafias of New York City. At the end of the day, government funding could only go so far in providing the detectives with resources to hunt down and take down the organizations. 

The mafias, on the other hand, had generations of old money behind them. They had top-notch lawyers and twisted politicians to back them up in court, and they were never caught with any sort of substantial evidence against them. 

It infuriated Jonathan. He had spent years trying to collect evidence to use against the mafias, to finally take them down and get them out of the city. They corrupted politicians, they trafficked drugs and weapons, and they targeted small businesses until they squeezed them dry. They were a poison, a deadly disease injected into the heart of the city, and there didn’t seem to be a cure.

Tensions were growing, however. Jonathan noticed it in the rise in trafficking activity, the increase in mafia members prowling around the streets. The police tried to arrest them, but their attempts proved futile; they were always forced to release the detainees immediately for lack of charges against them. 

But more and more fights were breaking out on the streets, leaving mafia members wounded in alleyways. The families were out of control, and if they were left unchecked, they would surely reak havoc across the city. Though it could spell disaster for the safety of the public, Jonathan saw the tension for what it really was: an opportunity.

If the families slipped up, if their hatred towards each other caused them to go overboard, to forget about protecting their own names, then maybe they could be pushed into making a mistake. All Jonathan needed was a shred of evidence, a momentary slip up, anything to gain the warrants he needed to invade the institutions and destroy them from the inside out. All he had to do was push them to their breaking point.

He had to cause a war. What better way to take down two rival mafia families than to have them take each other out first?

And maybe this was his chance. As he watched the tapes of Jace Herondale in Luke’s kitchen, he found that there was more going on than there appeared. While Luke and Jace were staring each other down in the back of the restaurant, Magnus Bane was stirring up a very different sort of trouble in the front.

The footage rolled, and Jonathan watched as Magnus Bane approached an unsuspecting Alexander Lightwood. The anger on Lightwood’s face was clear, but there was something lying underneath the tough exterior.

Bane pressed himself against Lightwood, and the two were disturbingly close. Jonathan stared, brow furrowed, as Bane grabbed Lightwood’s wrists and held him in place, whispering something in his ear. Lightwood pushed him off, but the expression on his face told Jonathan that whatever Bane had whispered hadn’t been completely abrasive.

So there was something going on there, it was unmistakable. They interacted as if they were continuing a conversation, and Bane slid from the restaurant as if he expected the conversation to be continued again soon.

He could only guess what was going on between Bane and Lightwood, but what he did know was that the two families did not mix. He replayed their interaction, watching for nuances in the two mens’ body language. 

Jonathan resolved to watch this play out. Whether Bane and Lightwood’s interaction spelled out trouble or an intense sort of attraction, Jonathan knew it could be the break he had been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that has left kudos/comments/bookmarks/subscribes etc etc, it means so much to me that you like the story so far!


	6. I'm So Sorry

I want to thank everyone who left kudos and comments, who bookmarked and subscribed to this fic; you've all been so supportive. I'm so, so sorry, and I feel like an absolutely awful person, but something has come up in my life that isn't going to allow me to continue writing this fic, or any fanfiction at all. 

You all have been so kind and encouraging, and I can't believe I'm having to do this, but I hope you will all believe me when I say sincerely that I really wanted to see this fic to completion. I can't explain why because it's for highly personal reasons, but my life is steering in a different direction than I expected, and I'm going to have to say goodbye completely.

I'm going to give you a brief summary of how I intended the fic to go, for those of you who might still be curious:

Alec and Magnus would progressively become closer. Magnus would break through Alec's tough exterior, and Alec would come more to terms with his own sexuality. 

Clary would begin to have a greater curiosity when it came to Jace and his mob organization, and she would eventually seek him out. There love would be much easier, since Clary did not have any mob background.

Eventually Magnus would realize that the feelings he had for Alec had become very real. Despairing at the thought of having to back out of his plan to take down the Herondales through Alec, he would get severely drunk. Alec would visit his apartment, and Magnus, in his drunken state, would take out his frustration on Alec. He would take their intimacy too far, and Alec would be confused and angry. Magnus would reveal the original plot, and Alec would break off their relationship.

Magnus would seek out Alec the next day to try to apologize to him. Someone from the Herondale organization would see them, and would bring photo evidence of the two together in broad daylight to the Herondales. Jace would feel dismayed and betrayed, but Alec would assure him that his loyalty was as firm in the Herondale name as it had ever been.

Jace's anger would instead turn to Magnus, and the two would have a sort of showdown. Guns would be out and cocked, and the tension would be thicker than ever. Ragnor would end up taking Magnus's gun and shooting Alec in the chest. Jace and Isabelle would rush Alec to the hospital with Magnus in tow, but would not allow Magnus in with them.

"Don't you think you've caused him enough pain?!"

The doctors would operate on Alec, and they would announce after several hours that Alec had died from his injuries. Jace and the rest of the Herondales would be devestated, and they would seek revenge on the Banes.

Clary, who works as a nurse, would find Alec in a secluded hospital room, chained to the bed. Jonathan would be there, having ordered the faking of Alec's death in order to ignite mob tensions. Clary works with Alec to help him escape, and they rush out to stop Magnus and Jace before they destroy each other.

Asmodeus would be killed in the fight, and Magnus would become the Bane mafia boss. Alec would not have forgiven him, and so would have given Magnus a seemingly permanent cold shoulder. Determined to win Alec back, Magnus would take the Bane organization underground, where they wouldn't be heard from for a few years.

Several years later, Magnus Bane would announce to NYC that Bane Industries had gone legit, and they were now a completely legal, non-nefarious business. Alec would be completely confused about this, and would eventually cave in, going to see Magnus in his office building.

Magnus would admit that, while their relationship had originally been orchestrated, he had come to love Alec, and he had dismantled the Bane organization so they could be together.

You can decide how it ends from there, but I hope that tied it up at least a little bit for you.

Again, I'm so, so, so, so sorry that I'm doing this to you. I'm going to delete this fic and my account a week from Monday, August 23, so if you have any more questions, or you just want to yell at me, feel free to leave a comment. 

Thank you again for sticking with me for so long. It's been so much fun, and I'm so sad to go.


End file.
